


Trapped

by jujus_writing_corner



Series: Whumptober 2020 [15]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Youtube RPF
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Happy Ending, Magic, Paralysis, Takes a minute to get there tho, Whumptober 2020, magical healing, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujus_writing_corner/pseuds/jujus_writing_corner
Summary: After Eric breaks his arm, Bim uses his magic to fix it. But he may have fixed it a littletoowell.Whumptober 2020 Day 15: Into The UnknownPrompt: Magical Healing
Series: Whumptober 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947961
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> I explained this fic to my roommate, and she called me a monster, so take that as you will XD
> 
> Enjoy!

When Eric and the Jim Twins return to Ego Inc. from their day’s shenanigans earlier than they’d planned, the first person they run into is Bim.

“Hey guys, what are you doing back already?” Bim asks. He peers at Eric. “Why’re you holding your arm, Eric?”

Eric is, indeed, holding his right arm against his chest with his left one. He also looks a little pale, and the Jims are pressed against either side of him with worried expressions.

“Anxious Jim broke his arm!” RJ exclaims.

_“It was my fault,”_ CJ signs sadly, _“We climbed a tree to get a better view and I got scared on the way down. A branch broke under AJ while he was helping me get down.”_

“It’s not your f-fault, CJ,” Eric says, voice thready, “I-It’s not too bad, we’re just g-going to the clinic so Dr. Iplier c-can fix it.”

“Geez,” Bim murmurs, “That sucks, bud. And it had to be your right arm, huh?”

“Well, i-it happens, I guess,” Eric shrugs, though he definitely feels a bit down. He has enough difficulties with his legs and prosthetics, and those difficulties will only be worse with his arm broken and unusable. He’ll probably need to ask someone to help him with things, with getting his prosthetics on and off every day, or even getting dressed. Eric hates asking for help at all; it’s already making him nervous to go to the clinic to ask Dr. Iplier to fix his arm. He’s not looking forward to being dependent for however long his arm takes to heal.

Bim screws up his face in thought like he knows all of the above – and he probably does, considering how much time he and Eric spend together – and pauses. Then, his face brightens with a wide smile, the smile he gets before he goes onstage for his show – the smile he gets before he causes trouble.

“Wh-What?” Eric asks. The Jims also look at Bim curiously.

“I’ve got an idea!” Bim exclaims, “You can get your arm fixed and you won’t even have to visit the clinic!”

“How??” Eric asks, utterly confused.

“Yeah, how, Bim Jim?” RJ parrots, eyes wide with curiosity. CJ mimics his expression, even leaning forward a little like he’s going to hear a secret.

“I can heal your arm with magic!” Bim explains, winning smile still on his face. “That way you won’t have to deal with a cast for who-knows-how-long, and you won’t be hurting anymore, either!”

“Can y-you do that?” Eric asks, nervous and skeptical. “Have you ever d-done that before?”

“Well, no,” Bim admits, “But my power is all about separation and combination, right? Putting two ends of a broken bone together is just a form of combination. It should be easy! And it’ll only take a few seconds, not days or weeks.”

“I d-don’t know,” Eric mumbles, though he looks down at his injured arm like he’s thinking about it. “It just seems t-too risky…”

“But what if it works?” puts in RJ, excited by the idea.

_“You’d be the first ego healed by Bim Jim’s magic!”_ CJ signs, just as excited, _“That’s a Jim News story for sure!!”_

“Good point, Jim!” RJ says. He puts an encouraging hand on Eric’s back, and Eric’s cheeks go slightly pink. “Give it a try, AJ, it’ll be cool!”

“Well…” Eric still doesn’t seem convinced, but the eager faces of the Jims and Bim are enough to crumble his resolve. He sighs. “Alright, Bim, y-you can do it.”

He hands over his arm, and Bim takes it gingerly. Bim’s no doctor, but he can just about feel where the break in Eric’s arm is. He holds his arm, one hand above the break and one below, and looks at Eric.

“You ready?” he asks.

The Jims lean in to watch.

“Y-Yeah,” Eric mumbles, still very nervous.

Purple light radiates from Bim’s hands and into Eric’s arm. It feels like a prickling warmth, and it almost makes Eric want to squirm. But he keeps his arm still through the strange sensation, and Bim bites his lip just a little as he concentrates. Other than the purple light, nothing can be seen from the outside, but Eric can feel the strange warmth traveling through the length of his forearm. After a few seconds, something clicks. Literally – at least, that’s how it feels inside Eric’s arm, like two ends clunking together. Another moment passes before Bim takes his hands away.

“Well?” he asks eagerly, “How’s it feel?”

It feels warm still as Bim’s magic fades, but more importantly, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Eric experimentally turns the arm over, bends it up and down, flicks his wrist around.

“I…I think it worked!” Eric says, astonished. “Bim, thank you so much!”

“It was nothing,” Bim replies, puffing up with pride.

“Wow!!” RJ exclaims, jumping with excitement.

_“An incredible achievement!”_ CJ signs, fingers so fast he can barely be understood, _“We must report this for Jim News!!”_

“Hey, not yet, alright?” Bim laughs, “Let Eric relax a minute. Maybe go figure out how exactly you wanna structure the report?”

“Good idea!” RJ says, “Let’s go, Jim! Bye AJ and BJ!”

The pair run off, and Eric and Bim can’t help but laugh.

“Thanks,” Eric says sheepishly, “I like the Jims, but, uh…I don’t really want to be interviewed. Right now, I mean. Or maybe ever.”

“They’ll get you one of these days,” Bim says good-naturedly, “They’ve gotten an interview out of everyone but Dark so far.”

“Even Google?” Eric asks, “Even, even Host??”

“Both of them,” Bim confirms, grinning, “Wanna hear about it?”

That’s how the pair end up walking to the nearest common room, Eric listening to Bim’s story and marveling over his arm. He still can’t believe it worked. His arm doesn’t hurt anymore, and it has the full range of movement it did before he broke it. The warmth of Bim’s magic has gone away, but the spell hasn’t, and Eric’s arm remains whole. They reach the common room and sit to talk, and Eric’s arm remains fine as he gestures and uses his hands to talk with Bim.

After a minute or so of talking with Bim, though, Eric’s arm starts to feel a little stiff. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a little harder to twist, has a little less motion. Eric puts it off as a magical side effect and continues to talk with Bim, though he uses his right arm less.

A couple minutes later, and it’s even more stiff. He can’t twist it at all, though he can still bend his elbow and flex his wrist. He rests his arm on the arm of the couch he’s sitting on as he listens to Bim tell a story.

The story is a good one, and a long one. It’s probably five minutes later that Eric, still giggling from Bim’s story, thinks to check on his arm again. He makes to move it.

He can’t.

He looks down at it, alarmed. He tries again. Nothing. He flexes his wrist – no, he doesn’t, his wrist won’t move either. His elbow won’t bend. His whole arm feels heavy like stone. His shoulder and fingers are still mobile, but they’re stiff like his arm was before it completely froze.

“Um, Bim?” he asks.

“Yeah?” Bim replies, still chuckling from his own story.

“Something’s wrong with my arm,” Eric says, trying not to sound too panicked. “My right arm. It’s all stiff.”

“Stiff?” Bim asks. He gets up and walks to Eric. “Stiff how?”

“It just…” Eric stands, and his arm stays in the position it was, bent for the arm of the couch. He shrugs his shoulder, moving the whole thing up and down, and flexes his fingers, but it’s all he can do. “It won’t move. I think something’s wrong.”

“Geez,” Bim mumbles, surprised. He moves to take Eric’s arm, but as soon as he’s grabbed it he jumps back as though shocked with electricity. “Shit!”

“What??”

“Eric, your arm is _hard!”_

Eric touches his arm with his left hand, bewildered. But sure enough, his arm is as rock-solid to the touch as it feels internally. His skin is still soft, but there’s no give of muscle or fat beneath it, only unyielding, stony…

“Bone,” Eric gasps, “The bone, something’s going on with my bone! It’s – It’s growing! ”

It’s as though a switch is flipped. Now that Eric knows what’s happening, he can practically feel the bone growth creeping up to his shoulder and down his fingers. It’s an unnerving and uncomfortable sensation, not painful, but tight and numbing and heavy. He wriggles his fingers helplessly, trying to shake out the feeling, but the bone creeps up below the skin, higher and higher, until Eric can’t move his right hand at all. His shoulder is similarly frozen, locking his arm at his side. It all happens within moments, and panic starts to rise in Eric’s chest – and in Bim’s, if his wide-eyed, pale face is any indication.

“Oh no,” Bim gasps, “It’s the magic, it must be going out of control–”

“C-Can you fix it??” Eric asks, almost whimpers, trying not to hyperventilate.

“I-I don’t know!” Bim cries, “It’s – I’ve never done anything like this before! I don’t know how to even begin repairing this!” He takes Eric’s left hand. “C’mon, we have to go to Dr. Iplier!”

Bim leads him there in a run, and Eric follows as best he can. He can feel the bone growing past his shoulder and encroaching towards his clavicle, invading the space around it. It goes down, too, trying to meet his ribs. By the time they rush into the clinic, Eric has started to cry, claustrophobia setting in as his own bones lock him in.

“Doc!!” Bim yells into the clinic, “We need help!”

“What happened!?” Dr. Iplier yells back, rushing to the waiting area. He sees Eric standing there, arm held strangely, crying and breathing hard. “Eric, is it your arm?”

“I-It won’t move,” Eric whimpers, “The b-bone won’t stop g-growing…”

“Growing…?” Dr. Iplier asks, coming to Eric’s side. He does a double-take as he feels Eric’s arm for injury. “Dear god, it _does_ feel like bone…” He looks up, not at Eric, but at Bim. His eyes narrow. “Bim, did you do something?”

“I was trying to help!” Bim exclaims, “He broke his arm and I used my magic to fix it. It was fine for a little while, but then the bone just kept going! I don’t know how to fix it, you have to do something!”

“Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was??” Dr. Iplier scolds as he leads Eric to a clinic bed, “You should’ve brought him here in the first place! Look, I’ll do my best, but it might be out of my expertise.”

“What!? You’re the doctor here, aren’t you??”

“I don’t know _magic,_ Bim! I don’t have healing powers! And neither do you, clearly, so you have no right to talk!”

“Guys,” Eric wheezes, “Getting worse…” The bone is creeping beyond his clavicle, into his neck, down his chest, over his ribs and along his spine, solidifying everything. It’s getting harder to speak, soon it’ll be harder to breathe.

“Dammit, alright,” Dr. Iplier says through gritted teeth, “Bim, listen. You have to go downstairs to the library, you have to get Host. He’ll be able to undo this.”

“Can’t we call him?” Bim asks anxiously, eyes darting between Dr. Iplier and Eric, “Won’t that be faster?”

“He never keeps his damn phone charged,” Dr. Iplier explains, unbuttoning Eric’s shirt to listen to his chest, “You have to run down there and get him. Use the stairs, it’ll be faster. Go! We don’t have much time!”

Bim goes, running out so fast he almost trips. Dr. Iplier puts his stethoscope on Eric’s chest and listens. Fortunately, most of Eric’s chest is still appropriately soft with the correct give – but the upper right side is hard, and no sound comes through. Bone circles Eric’s neck, and he finds he’s no longer able to speak.

_“D-O-C,”_ he finger-spells with his left hand.

“Oh no,” Dr. Iplier murmurs, “You can’t talk anymore, can you?”

Eric tries to shake his head. His neck won’t move. He has to finger-spell again. Tears continue spilling from his eyes, but he can’t sob.

“You need a breathing tube,” Dr. Iplier decides. He leaves for a few moments before returning with one. “Okay, this is gonna be uncomfortable, Eric. We don’t have time for anaesthesia or sedation. Just try not to fight it, alright?”

Eric can’t nod, either. His left hand is shaking with fear, too much to finger-spell. He only opens his mouth as wide as he can. Dr. Iplier gives him a gentle, encouraging smile before putting the tube into his mouth and pushing it down.

Eric jolts hard at the sensation. He forgets the creeping bone as his entire body tries to reject the breathing tube. He feels like he’s going to choke as it goes farther down, and it takes everything in him to stay relatively still and not push Dr. Iplier away with his left hand. Partway down, the tube stops. Eric can feel the sensation of the plastic tapping the inside of his throat – not tapping, clacking. Dr. Iplier swears loudly and pulls the tube back out. Eric has a coughing fit once the tube leaves his throat, and Dr. Iplier pets his hair apologetically.

“I’m sorry, Eric, there’s already too much bone to fit the tube all the way down,” he murmurs, brows furrowed as he tries to think of something else to do.

Eric can barely focus on Dr. Iplier’s apology. Without the tube distracting him, he can once again feel bone growth travelling through him. It’s harder to breathe, there’s less space for air to come through, less room for his lungs to expand. He was already hyperventilating and crying, and it doesn’t take him long to get light-headed. Dr. Iplier notices, and swears again.

“Dammit, what’s taking Bim so long??” he yells, “God, Eric, hang in there. I’ll think of something, Bim’ll be here soon…”

Eric struggles as breathing becomes harder and harder. His chest starts to burn, his vision starts to dim at the edges. His mouth wants to gape open, but the bone growth has reached his jaw, preventing the movement. He can do nothing but finger-spell _“A-I-R, A-I-R, A-I-R,”_ over and over. Dr. Iplier bites his lip and stays by Eric, stroking his hair, trying to comfort him and still wracking his brain for a solution.

Finally, _finally,_ Bim and The Host burst into the clinic.

“Eric!!” Bim cries, running to Eric’s side.

Eric can’t even turn to look at him. He hardly knows what’s happening. His chest is on fire. Everything is fuzzy and dim.

“Did Bim explain the situation?” Dr. Iplier asks Host.

“Yes,” Host says, “Both of you move out of the way. The Host will fix Eric.”

They both obey, Bim in tears, Dr. Iplier tense. Eric doesn’t register them leaving his side. He can’t breathe. He’s too weak to sign for air anymore. Host takes a breath and raises his hands towards Eric.

_“Bim’s magic recedes from Eric’s body,”_ Host begins, voice low and simmering with power, _“Taking the excess bone with it. The outgrowths of bone disappear, leaving the muscle and fat, the tendons and veins, the nerves and cartilage that was there before. The new bone shrinks back, back from within Eric’s neck, back from across his chest, back from up his shoulder and down his fingers. It all meets at the end, where the bone is restored to its previous state. Bim’s magic fades from Eric’s body, the spell is revoked, it is over.”_

Eric gasps in a gulp of air as his neck and chest open up, then begins to cough as his body greedily breathes it in. As Dr. Iplier and Bim thank Host – Bim profusely so – Eric begins to feel lighter, more flexible, normal. He starts crying again, overwhelmed by it all. Bim rushes to him to hug him, and Eric yelps as pain shoots up his right arm with Bim’s hug. Terrified, he looks down, but realizes that his arm is simply broken again, just as it was before. Bim recognizes it too, and frowns.

“All that and his arm is _still_ broken?” Bim asks Host, hugging Eric more gently and avoiding his broken arm.

“Unlike someone in this room,” Host replies, eyes leaking blood down his face, “The Host is not willing to risk any further backfiring of healing magic.”

Bim gasps, affronted but feeling guilty. Eric hugs Bim as well as he can with his left arm and looks at Host.

“Th-Thanks, Host,” Eric sniffles.

“Your welcome, Eric,” Host replies, smiling gently, “But please leave your injuries to Dr. Iplier in the future.”

Eric nods, and Host leaves the clinic satisfied that his work is done. Bim sighs shakily, still crying a little.

“Eric, I’m so, so sorry,” he murmurs, “I shouldn’t have pressured you into letting me fix your arm. If I had any idea that was going to happen I never would’ve even suggested it.”

“I know,” Eric answers, managing a shaky smile, “I forgive you, Bim.”

Bim smiles back and ruffles Eric’s hair.

“So, Eric,” Dr. Iplier chimes in, coming around the bed to Eric’s right side, “Let’s finally treat this arm of yours, how about it?”

Eric can’t help but giggle a little as he nods, but he already knows he won’t be forgetting how that experience felt anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment! They absolutely make my day :'3


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